Literally hewn out of the Cornish cliffside by the bare hands of Rowena Cade and her gardeners in the 1930s, demolished by the War Effort and rebuilt when Rowena Cade crawled under barbed wire to cut the grass and lugged sacks of sand up the rocks, the Minack, a great stone amphitheatre between Penzance and Land's End, has become one of the major attractions of South-West England. With a different show every week throughout its 17-week summer season, it aims, according to its website (www.minack.com), to bring 'good amateur theatrical groups' to its stage. These groups over the years have included people such as Michael York, Will Self and Charlotte Church, as well as students from the Central School of Speech and Drama - and just plain ordinary folk.

Given its startling azure backdrop - from which dolphins sometimes leap and sea-rescue helicopters fly by and distract the 750-strong audience at the most crucial moments of a play - there is naturally a healthy dose of big productions such as Shakespeare and Gilbert and Sullivan (notably 'The Pirates of Penzance') lurking in every Minack season. This is elemental theatre, and a show needs to live up to the setting. Austen adaptations and kitchen-sink dramas are bound to be blasted offstage by Atlantic squalls, while snails meander up your costume from the gorse-lined walkways below.

I went with London-based company The Tower Theatre in the last week of July 08, when London was enjoying a sunny spell. We were hit by everything from heat-waves and swarming ants to storm warnings. We staged an adaptation of Lewis Carroll's Alice stories called Curiouser and Curiouser, written by Penny Tuerk and Anne Connell, directed by Penny Tuerk, music by Colin Guthrie, choreography by Janet South and breathtaking design based on the original John Tenniel drawings in the Alice books by David Taylor and EJ Taylor. A minutely-orchestrated but ebullient piece that Frank Ruhrmund of The Cornishman described as 'an Alice worth getting wet for', we had tea-chests transforming into tea-tables before the audience's eyes, coat-stands growing into Jabberwocks, and musicians blending in and out of the action. A young Lewis Carroll became a White Rabbit intent on keeping Alice young in Wonderland forever, while Alice's older sister appeared as the Red Queen, guiding her on her quest to become a queen herself. Meanwhile we, a chorus of vague ideas and memories within Carroll's head, would assume a prop here or a hat there to turn ourselves into a March Hare, a Queen of Hearts, a doorknob, a lobster or whatever else was required at that point.

Obviously, there are setbacks to performing on a stage like the Minack. For a start there is the rain. Although they rarely cancel more than two nights a year, and the audience invariably arrives well-prepared with macs, rugs and thermos flasks of heartening drinks, we were one of the unlucky few to perform when the Minack radar turned so red (representing bad weather), that it looked like Bluebeard's chamber. Consequently, we had to call one show off, a hefty blow when you are only there for a week. Even then, and despite the downpour and 30 mph winds rushing towards us like a whale's maw, there was still a group of spectators sat happily with 3 bottles of champagne who refused to leave. Rain on the whole brings actors and audience closer together, like London in the Blitz, and you will get an especially loud cheer if you can perform through it, although you will still be glad to descend into the tunnel-like dressing-room steaming with tea urns and a tumble dryer.

Even under normal conditions, some of our costumes and props proved unwieldy in a way they hadn't within the four walls of Camden's Teatro Technis, where we had rehearsed. For example, the giant foam playing-cards which we wore like tabards were whipped up by the slightest breezes. And just try, I beg you, to walk along a cliff top with a 2-foot-long chess piece on your head.

But other effects which looked fairly quotidian in London came vividly to life - such as a giant crow puppet that simply flew across the stage, and when you looked at the dances and choreography from above, the swirling bodies flipped about like a kaleidoscope. The Cheshire Cat materialised atop a great stone archway as the actress playing him teetered on a ladder behind, and there were always gasps at the unfurling of Alice's pool of tears awash with strange and exotic animals, or at the Duchess's kitchen, replete with stove and peppered soup.

Another interesting feature of the Minack is the acoustics. We were provided with floor mics and and a few portable packs, but apart from that, all projection came from the naked voice. A vigorous warm-up on the cliffs became a daily ritual, as did experiments with pitch to see at what point things became audible. It takes a while to work out quite how quickly you can speak without losing anything, or how much you must enunciate, as many onlookers are unused to listening to extensive dialogue or even to the English language. One of the joys of this theatre is that it attracts international tourists as well as locals, plus those who would never ordinarily go to a play, so there is that wonderful moment when you look up and find all faces transfixed as they participate in this unique experience and spectacular venue. But if they can't see or hear what you are saying, everything is lost - so cut-glass projection and well-defined movements that would make a method-actor wince soon become the order of the day. At the same time, the performer mustn't forget smaller reactions either, for while the auditorium stretches into the sky above, fading into the stars as darkness falls, the front row is close enough to trip over, and will be watching just as intently as those dangling overhead.

The Minack is a theatre of extremes, challenging (especially when trying to get scenery up and down the cliff), sometimes impossible but also truly magical. It's one of the most enriching opportunities a performer could have. From Porthcurnow Beach below, where people swim up to say well done, to the two nearby pubs, the Cable Station and Logan Rock - who offer late licensing hours, local drinks, karaoke (if you ask the Cable Station nicely), and food that will keep you anchored to the stage however strong the winds blow - the whole area is geared to welcome those associated with the theatre. Admittedly, you have to have a car to get about, so a designated driver is a must, and some holiday cottages have grown wary of Minack tours and their notoriously wild parties - although the craziest thing that our household did was accidentally melt the washing bowl on the grill one hungover breakfast-time. But if you go with a group of well-seasoned Minack players there will be parties aplenty, a vibrant social scene. And most of all, this rugged and wonderful theatre.

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(c) Philippa Tatham 12 August 2008

Philippa Tatham is an actress, director and producer.